Compass
by palomino333
Summary: Set during and after the events of Pacific Rim. "It's okay, they won't touch you. I won't let them." Hermann chases the rabbit. Slash.


I apologize in advance. I haven't seen _Pacific Rim_ ever since five years ago. This fic ignores _Pacific Rim: Uprising_ , as to me, the story of _Pacific Rim_ felt finished at the end of the first film. The line about Newt protecting Hermann from the military is due to a deleted scene from the film, where Newt tells Hermann not to salute Raleigh, as Hermann isn't an officer. This fic was an experiment with linearity of time. According to his character profile, Gottlieb worked on creating the Jaegers. Additional note: Gottlieb is referring to any inactive Jaegers, such as those that were physically at reportedly closed shatterdomes.

* * *

Of all people, Newton had never expected to Drift with Hermann.

The Drift, previously, had been alien, and somewhat cold, combining his mind with that of a kaiju. It was fascinating, allowing him to fully experience an inhuman mind. But this was different. He'd been excited, when Gottlieb had posited the idea of protecting him from the negative effects of the Drift. Humanity could be saved.

However, the sheer intimacy of it hit him. Hermann's thoughts were racing, as were his emotions. He could feel his nerves and fear. He could also feel his embarrassment at his thoughts being opened to Newton. Newton attempted to comfort him with reassurances and a sense of friendliness, beckoning him in. However, his concentration was slipping quickly as a result of the sheer information overload of another's thoughts and emotions twisting inside of him. How the Jaeger pilots could successfully do this, he had no clue.

Somewhere in the middle of it, he felt Hermann beginning to detach from him. Overwhelmed by his memories, he fell away to be stuck somewhere in the distance.

No!

His mind reached for Hermann's. He couldn't lose him now, not when they were so close. More importantly, he wasn't sure what could happen. The kaiju had damaged him enough the first time, and Hermann had forcibly disconnected him. If Gottlieb was lost, he feared the worst.

"Come on," he muttered, barely being able to keep up with the influx of information. It was difficult to make his way through it. The positivity was there, of achievements and excitements, but the negativity continued to overwhelm it. Newt braced himself against all of it. Pain from two peoples' lifetimes became a heavier and heavier burden to bear. He buckled under it.

Gottlieb flashed past him in visions, as if he was in a hall of mirrors. He was writing a letter to Newton in one of them. Newt watched his pen dance along the page. In another, he spoke adamantly before a class, tone shaking somewhat in his excitement of his subject. In yet another, he smiled warmly to himself as he watched the first Jaegers complete test runs. Beside him, Newt, as he was in the past, nudged him. "Nice work, dude!"

"Where are you?" Newt asked, his breath quick in his concern.

There was one other memory.

The tide of the North Sea dragged along the shore. Hermann was tapping away furiously at his laptop, while Newton, knee-deep in the sea water, and covered in spray, was studying the fish. The sea life, he noticed, had continued to alter. Migratory patterns of fish had strayed, with Pacific several strains appearing in these waters. Several dead strains, he noted, giving the next fish he had discarded.

The worship of the kaiju interested and annoyed him. Kaiju were naturally-occurring creatures, and not gods, creatures that were also interfering with the world's ecosystem. Earth had lasted for billions of years, and would continue to do so, if it was able to stabilize itself. What scared the hell out of him, though, was what that would mean for those who dwelled upon its surface.

Newt found the quietness of the sea to be too much so. Man was born from the ocean, and still knew too little about his mother. As a child, he'd fantasized about diving into the ocean, with his limbs transforming into fins, and his skin being replaced by scales. Of course, he'd gotten older, and realized that his soft human flesh wasn't going to change. Nevertheless, he couldn't let go of that desire to return home.

But he'd turned back, then, to look at Hermann for a moment, the thought of home dissipating. Watching himself, he felt foolish for indulging what seemed to him like a schoolboy affection.

"Is there something you want, Newton?" Hermann asked, glancing up at him.

Newt recalled the many different things he had considered doing, such as telling Hermann that he was taking a break, and sitting with him, or provoking him with some mildly entertaining conversation. But he had merely turned back to look at the sea, brushing his arm against his nose from the salt. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

Newt, in the present day, paused as he watched Hermann slowly raise his eyes once more, his hand on his laptop. He hadn't seen this, in the past, the tightening of Gottlieb's fingers, and the slight tilt of his head. He glanced away from Newt's figure, and over at the shore, watching a gull take flight. He closed his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and returned his attention to the screen. Newton would have thought nothing of it, but the focus of the scene had shifted. It became grayer, and the sound became higher, the sea roaring in his ears. Gottlieb felt colder within, as if he had lost something.

It felt too close and personal. Newt pushed away from it. Hermann would see it, and Newton had seen too much. It had felt like an encroachment. Still, he wanted to find him, more so now, that man on the beach.

There he was.

Newt paused before the memory, catching his breath. He hadn't realized that he'd been panting. What threw him, however, was how Gottlieb appeared to him. The hallway was shadowed, with a light casting him in a sickly yellow. There was not a grown man, however, but a child, curled into a ball and hugging his knees.

Newton knelt before the little, sobbing boy. He was about to say something like "hey kid," but it didn't seem appropriate. "Hermann," he greeted gently. A lump was gathering in his throat from the sheer loneliness, and he swallowed it back down.

The child slowly glanced up, and Newt's fist clenched at his side. On his right cheek was a purple bruise. Someone had scribbled black marker all along his mouth and throat. Laughter and jeers sounded off in the distance, and Gottlieb drew back from them, curling further in on himself.

Newt placed his hand about his shoulder, gathering the boy close to himself. Deciding to adhere to the setting, he comforted, "It's okay, they won't touch you. I won't let them."

Hermann's head swung about, and his gaze changed. The fear and innocence, all short-sighted by a young age, fell away to be replaced by an older, more knowing expression. There was recognition, as well as shame at being caught like this. Newt's grasp tightened once to indicate no judgment. "We have to go," he whispered.

Hermann swallowed, gathering himself, and nodded, slowly reaching out to grasp his hand. The grip became less tentative, and stronger as he tugged him back into the onslaught of memories, headed straight for the alien form of the kaiju, past fears, doubts, and regrets, until at last human thought was broken and warped.

Geiszler sighed as he watched Gottlieb rush over to the open toilet and become sick into it. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he placed it into Hermann's outstretched hand. Was that how afraid Hermann had felt, when unplugging him after his first Drift? He didn't like it and didn't want to think about it. With the fear and loneliness that had coiled around them both, in their Drift, it was better not to acknowledge it. There wasn't time, anyway.

XXXXXX

"It doesn't matter," Hermann muttered gruffly, erasing numbers and letters off his blackboard with a harder arm than he had previously, "It's the past."

Newt put his hands in his pockets and shook his head at the scientist's turned back. With a slight smirk, he knew that Gottlieb couldn't have lied worse to him, if he had tried. By the time he had turned back, however, Newt's smirk was gone. Instead, he shrugged. "Okay, I'll drop it."

"Good," sliding off the ladder, he caught himself, reaching for his cane, "Now, as much as I've enjoyed our little heart to heart, we are at work."

As Gottlieb limped over to his desk, and meaningfully sat down, Newt turned away, and walked back from the yellow dividing line. He wasn't expecting an immediate closeness, anyway. That aside, if he didn't want to talk about it, then fine. Kids were cruel. Nothing was new there, and it wasn't his job to be Hermann's unneeded white knight.

XXXXXX

"They were thinking of privatizing the Jaegers," Gottlieb commented bitterly as he limped beside him.

Newton, rain hitting off his umbrella, glanced over at him. "Why?"

Pausing, he lowered his scarf to explain, "The rich and powerful want the most beautiful toys. I doubt little that your friend Hannibal Chau is among them."

"Dude, he is not my friend!" Newton exclaimed, swinging about in annoyance. Gottlieb's smirk was backlit by the lights of a passing ship.

"My mistake, then," he relented, continuing along, "Naturally, I gave my opinion of the m—" Gasping, he stumbled over an overturned trash can, only to be caught by Geiszler.

"You okay?" He asked, helping him to stand.

"It's not very easy to see out of this hood," Gottlieb grumbled.

"Personally, I think you just wanna be a turtle," Newt said.

"That's adorable," Hermann replied sarcastically.

"You can always come under here. There's room," he offered, invitingly holding out his umbrella.

Hermann glanced between him and pavement, and sighed in acquiescence, moving under it, and lowering his hood. It was impossible to keep arms' length from Newton under such closeness, and he had to acquiesce to brushing and bumping, though it annoyed him.

"So, what was your opinion?" Newton asked, bringing the conversation back on topic.

"I stated that the Jaeger units were too dangerous to keep running. Humanity has only just united. With the kaiju threat gone, the only threat we pose seems to be ourselves. Frankly, I don't want us to destroy what we have just managed to find." He glanced out at the sea as he said that, thinking of his calculations as a little boy of eventually going to the stars.

"Yeah, about that…" Newton began, and stopped with a sigh.

Hermann glanced back over at him. "What's wrong?"

"I've been getting some weird messages lately. Apparently, some fanatics think I'm a second coming, or something, since the Drift." Hermann felt a chill run down a spine and glanced over his shoulder. Newton waved a hand. "Then I get others saying I belonged in a lab, and even offers for me to give myself up. I don't think I'm gonna be answering those. You get any?"

"A few," he admitted quietly, making a mental note to ask Tendo to place a block on their messaging system. Looking back at Newton, he stated, "You should be careful. We aren't sure how many people are aware of that."

Newton was quiet at that, and Hermann knew that he had caught him. When he spoke, however, the mask slid back into place. "I'll be all right. We're government employees."

"We are, but you aren't naïve," Hermann replied pointedly, "Others within might have conflicting interests."

"You worried?" Newton asked.

"I wouldn't have brought this up otherwise."

Geiszler groaned. "Come on, you really think the others would let that happen to us? You and I have known Mako since she was a kid. Tendo would be willing to go to bat for us. Don't think that's immediately going to end because the Breach is closed."

"I don't, but," he stopped himself, and realized it was too late, "I don't want to lose my partner."

Newton felt a joke rising in his throat, but let it go. "You won't. We've had ten years between us, unless you wanted to go somewhere?"

"Not likely," he replied curtly, "I'm needed here."

An awning loomed, and Gottlieb gratefully walked out from under the umbrella to stand beneath it. Advertisements for food glowed off his skin in red. Newton, his face framed by darkness, stood before him under that umbrella. The bluish glow of the natural moonlight made him appear somewhat childish, and delicate. Multiple times in their shared past, Newton had warned him against straying too close to the military out of a sense of protectiveness. Perhaps he had a point, especially now that humanity was free, for the moment.

"I'll be one of the leads on the project to dismantle the Jaegers," he explained.

Newton's face fell. "Oh Hermann, I'm so sorry! That was your life's work!"

"It's fine," he reassured with a slight smile, "If it means that humanity is safe, then it's worth dismantling them."

Newt smiled back. "Then, doctor, where are we headed?"

He chuckled, glancing out over the clouded horizon. "Anywhere."

Opportunity never knocked twice, but perhaps now, an exception could be made.

Newt moved forward, his arm brushing against Hermann's. Hermann's eyes immediately flicked up to catch Newt's. A breath escaped the physicist's lips. Newton immediately felt as if he'd overstepped his bounds. "Oh, sorry about that. Here, I'll—" He paused upon feeling Gottlieb's fingers tightening about his. He could only ask, in all his eloquence, "Huh?"

The taller man tugged him under the awning. The front lapels of his winter coat brushed against Newton's. Steam stirred from their shared breaths. Newt felt his glasses fogging up at the proximity. A hand came up on the back of his neck. He could feel it moving over the hair that was plastered to it. Feeling completely caught, Newton could only ask, "So, now what?"

That earned a smirk from Hermann. Newt saw it for a moment, and the next he was up against the side of his neck. Newt smelled rainwater on him, as well as ink and chalk. Beneath it, however, was a sweet-smelling cologne he wore. Newt lifted his arms to wrap around him, and Hermann possessively tugged him closer, their breaths continuing to mingle.

"You are an insufferable man, Newton," Gottlieb grumbled.

"Thanks."

Rain continued to fall as they snuggled in their embrace.

XXXXXX

The dissected bodies and remains of kaiju remained spread about the room, though in larger amounts. Despite himself, Newton found that he wanted more interactions with these other-worldly beings to truly understand them. They were now myths, nightmares of a previous age. He didn't think politically on it, as he dug his hands into the remains of the female kaiju. He was a scientist, and that was his only concern.

Hermann continued to kick and shove aside entrails in annoyance, exclaiming, "I did not give you permission to move your rubbish on my side, Newton!"

"What?" He asked, holding his hands up, which were currently covered in kaiju fluid. "My tables are on my side! I can't help if things fall off!"

"You're doing it on purpose!" Herman exclaimed in annoyance, jabbing a thumb at him, "The moment I let my guard down, you start encroaching on my territory!"

Newton shrugged. "Yeah, that's nice, honey. You do have more than just this spot of room to work with."

His cheeks red, Hermann exclaimed, "Don't you call me 'honey!' Keep your trash on your side of the room!"

"You could've just asked nicely," Newton said.

Gottlieb's shoulders rose at that, but he decided against replying to him.

As time passed, however, and he began weighing and measuring the baby kaiju's corpse, Newt found he pitied the little creature, lost without its mother, and not even ready to enter the world yet. In some ways, he found that he wasn't ready to rejoin civilization, as well, having spliced his consciousness with a kaiju alone. He wondered if he could be considered mad by society's standards and pushed it away.

Newton fell back heavily onto his chair, dozing slightly from the day. A sigh sounded near him, and he watched Hermann settle into a nearby chair. Cracking an eye open, he commented, "You're on my side."

"Oh, shut it, we aren't working," Hermann shot back.

Newton shrugged, cracking his other eye open. "Guess I was mistaken." With a yawn, he stretched backward over his chair, and pulled himself up to sit straight. A surprised expression passed over Hermann's face, and he rose.

"Stay still," Gottlieb instructed, reaching toward him.

"What for?" Geiszler asked, "Something on my face?"

Hermann sighed in annoyance. "Humor me for once, please."

Newton swallowed upon realizing that his levity wasn't working. He gave a slight nod, and relaxed. Gottlieb's spider-like fingers fell upon his face. The pads, he realized, were quite soft. He allowed Hermann to tilt his face and examine him, feeling over the lines and imperfections on his face. A chair squealed, and Gottlieb's cane thumped against it. After he braced himself on the chair, Hermann's other hand slowly came up and tugged off Newt's glasses to place to the side, his dark gaze not leaving Newt's. Newt breathed softly and wanted to play it off with a snide comment. The words didn't come, and instead he asked, "What do you see?"

Gottlieb found little on the surface of Geiszler's face. There was paleness, which was understandable, given that they had spent several days underground. There were bags from lack of sleep. There was acne near his jawline and hairline due to the humidity of the area, and the natural oils from his body. There were scars and imperfections Gottlieb now knew, a scar from banging his head off the corner of a table as an over-excited child here, and another from an apartment fire there.

He needed more information, he had decided, and the removal of the glasses had given it to him. Newton's green eyes were bloodshot, his irises rimmed with red. Staring deeper into them, he saw his reflection clearly in the lenses. The pupils remained somewhat large, not retracting at his presence. Newton's eyes were on him, but they looked glassy, and lost. Gottlieb became unsettled at the visual of himself, framed in this perpetual mirror. "It's gotten worse," he murmured, the words feeling hollow in his throat.

"What do you mean?" He asked, reaching blindly to the side for his glasses.

Gottlieb gratefully broke their eye contact to press Newt's glasses into his hand. He put them on quickly, and visibly relaxed. "You aren't registering my presence. You seem detached from your environment. Your eyes are also still red."

"I mean, that could be from anything. We barely get out enough, as it is," Newt replied skeptically with a slight shrug. His heart, however, beat quickly.

"Newton, you're the biologist here. Does that sound correct?" Gottlieb asked, tugging his cane off the chair to stand fully, his weight braced upon it.

Newt smiled at the fact that Gottlieb was deferring to his judgement, but it fell. Spreading his legs, he sat back. "No, I guess not."

"He guesses," Gottlieb muttered, waving one hand about, and staring up at the ceiling in annoyance, "He lampoons my method of prediction, and yet he guesses now."

"So, what do you mean?" Newt asked, glancing over at the tanks.

"What I mean is someone should look after you, to keep this from going too far," Hermann explained. At the other scientist's shake of the head, he implored, "You're getting sick, Newton. It will only become worse, if you're left on your own."

Newton challenged, "What, you think I can't take care of myself?"

"Of course, I don't. You're an adult," Gottlieb scoffed. Holding up a finger, he added, "However, knowing you, you certainly won't."

"Oh gee, thanks, Mom," Newt muttered, putting his fingers into his pockets, "So, who would you suggest?"

Hermann shrugged. "I can put up with you, I suppose."

Newt's breath caught, and his eyes widened. "You'd do that for me?"

Gottlieb's fingers fell under Geiszler's chin, and he tilted it up. He gave a solemn nod. Newt stood quickly, and, not wanting to give himself time to think, threw his arm about Hermann. Hermann's gasp was caught in the kiss Newt gave him. The cane wobbled for one moment, and the next, he grasped Newt's shirt tightly. Hermann's back hit the desk behind him, and he braced his legs against it, the cane clattering to the floor. Newton's hands paused on his hips, and, at his lover's grunt of approval, hoisted him onto the desk. Paperwork and pens slid off under Hermann's fingers.

His breath caught, and he half spun about to grasp them. Newt stopped him with a stroke of his cheek. "It's okay, I'll clean it up."

Hermann snorted. "You'd only make it worse. I've had to spend most of my time moving your messes to your side of the room!"

Newt glanced up under the hair that had fallen over his forehead. With a smirk, he asked, "Still wanna put up with me?"

Gottlieb rolled his eyes at him. Grasping him by his tie, he tugged him in close, his voice becoming low-pitched in its intensity. "Do you honestly think I would let you go, after that?"

Newton, caught off-guard, could only give a cheeky grin before Hermann tugged him back for a hard kiss.

XXXXXX

The first few weeks after the apocalypse had been cancelled, Newton lay, with Hermann's arms protectively around him, under an old blanket. The laboratory bunks were sparse, as were others in the shatter dome. Cocooned alongside him, Newt enjoyed the feeling of his lover's warmth, and his breath on his hair. Hermann's cane was propped against a nearby locker. The room felt still around them.

Hermann tended to fell asleep sooner, while Newt's thoughts wandered as he stared at their arms, Hermann's bare, and his covered with intricate kaiju markings. He'd miss the kaiju, as it felt as if the fantasy was ended. Leaning forward, he kissed the back of Hermann's wrist. Scientists were still needed now, more than ever, to investigate all that had remained.

Base human instincts, such as the one that was making his stomach growl, still took center stage. He had a little trouble wriggling out of Gottlieb's arms, prompting the other scientist to partially wake up. "What's wrong?" Hermann mumbled, his voice muffled from where it was half-buried in the pillow.

"Breakfast time," Newt replied.

"Ah," he muttered, his speech slurring, and loosening his arms, "Well, you can always have that rice cake."

"Hermann, you ate the rice cake yesterday at lunch."

"I did? I don't remember lunch," he muttered. His voice trailed off into sleepy, unintelligible mumbles, though Newton caught something about a unicorn getting its horn stuck in the side of a tree. Newt stifled a laugh.

"That's because you had it one hand, and a pen in the other while you were scribbling down notes," Newt reminded him, kissing the back of his neck.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Hermann mumbled.

"It's okay," Newt allowed, "I'll let it slide."

"That's nice of you," Hermann replied drowsily, rolling back over. A soft snoring droned from him.

Newt covered his sleeping lover carefully with the blanket and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He'd learned a few things about Hermann, lately. Hermann's lips tasted of cinnamon, the sensation being as sharp as his words. His belt made a good tie when he was fed up with Newton's arms flailing about. He tended to speak into Newton's ear when making love or during foreplay, whispering endearments in their native language.

Now, however, Gottlieb was cute as he lay, curled up under the blanket, continuing to mumble about his dreams. He'd keep him safe, vulnerable as he was.

XXXXXX

Pity, however, was one thing Hermann couldn't abide, and Newt was careful about it.

Nevertheless, Gottlieb felt the other man's embrace from behind, and pushed off his desk to lean backward into it. Newt's chin pressed into his shoulder, content. Slowly, he lowered his own head to lay against his.

"Hey, sweetheart," Newton murmured fondly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Hermann's mouth at the endearment. It broadened as he felt Newton give him a slight squeeze, his fingers sliding over the buttons on his shirt once before falling onto the fabric. Previously, he would have pulled away, and found his friend's touch a nuisance, but he understood it, now.

Newt, it seemed, was all too willing to prove himself, and Hermann appreciated that. Nevertheless, Newt was a groupie. But that was fine, he decided, stopping his lover's hand. Picking it up, he kissed the palm. Newton didn't need a tattoo for him, when he was already under his skin.


End file.
